


Wish Is For You

by 5saucy



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, hi there, im nervous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 20:50:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5saucy/pseuds/5saucy
Summary: I'm a wisher, a dreamer, my future's unwritten.I am hopeful to know what I want will come true.I'm not foolish. I don't think things come to me out of the blue.And then I met you.**Birthdays of Stanley Uris haven't been the same since he met Richie Tozier.





	Wish Is For You

**Author's Note:**

> hi there!! i really hope u like!! more notes at the end

11

Stan is having one of those birthday parties put on by his mother where they invited everyone in his class. Almost everyone and their mother (quite literally) is there. Not that Stan liked them all. Gretta Bowers kept rolling her eyes and asking when there'd be cake, and Belch Huggins kept burping on the Uris’s cat, Peanut Butter. The few he did like, he’d describe as “awesome”

Eddie, of course, who refused to eat the cake if there were candles, and who wouldn’t have birthday candles? (Too much spit, he claimed.)

Mike, who’s mom is friends Stan’s mom, always brings the best gifts, at least the most thoughtful ones. Whatever is the latest toy usually gets tossed by next school year, but Mike’s last gift of an embroidered bird is still hung up on Stan’s wall. Misplaced stitches reveal it’s was Mike’s own laborious handiwork of a cardinal.

Bill lives next door and is shuffled in with his younger brother Georgie, who Bill always wants to include. Stan thinks it’s really nice of him but sometimes he just wants to hang out with Bill and not a 6 year old.

A blue birthday cone sits atop a crown of blonde curls, and Stan’s face glows in front of eleven rainbow candles. The party huddles around and sings a loud, quite off key (it sounds like someone hollering in his ear) rousing rendition of Happy Birthday and he can’t stop the smiles today. It’s his special day.

“Make a wish, sweetie.” His mom whispers, rubbing his shoulder.

He concentrated. Birthday wishes are important. What should he ask for? A new birdwatching book? Money? Candy? A trip to the amusement park? What does he want more than ever, just for himself?

Finally, he settles on binoculars. As he sucks in a gulp of air to blow out the candles, someone to his left blows them all out in one swift shot, dragging it on quite too long and spit flying everywhere. Eddie visibly grimaces and Stan only turns and stares.

“What? You were taking to long. Dibs on first piece!” Came the so-called explanation from the black-haired boy, one Stan recognized as new to his school. Richie Tozier.

“Are you kidding me?!”

Despite this candle hijacking, his birthday wish did come true.

12

Apparently 12 was the age where you didn’t have to go to people’s birthday parties just because you were in their class. Stan had been so excited that Friday morning, thinking about the blue envelopes he sent two weeks ago with his scratchy handwriting personally addressed for all 22 individuals.

Only 8 people came, including Eddie’s mom. He tried his best to play it off, but the one thing he thought about before blowing out those 12 candles (Richie was banished to the other end of the table) was his next wish: Friends.

13 

As they’re buying tickets to their first PG-13 movie, Stan realizes his last wish did come true. Ben, the calm and true friend joined their group and Bill did everything short of begging for Beverly to be friends with them. Which wasn’t necessary, he thought. People are usually just put off by Richie, who was shoving his hand into Stan’s bucket of popcorn and licking it before he dived back in.

“Knock it off, nasty!” Stan grabs the bucket away, but Richie moves with it.

“How else am I supposed to get the wholesome buttery experience?” Stan doesn’t respond, only grumpily putting the bucket back in his lap.

Once Richie becomes absorbed in whatever Eddie is yammering on about, he smiles to himself. Looking at his friends surrounding him, talking way too loudly in the theater, he settles on his wish.

These people, forever.

14

“What the hell happened, Tozier!” Stan said, digging in his pockets for his handkerchief. Richie smiled, eyes dancing behind his spider-webbed glasses and blood trickling from his bottom lip. 

“Got in a fight with some juniors.” he responds, pushing Stan’s hand away and leading the way into the ice cream shop. They sit and order their desserts, and from their booth, Stan watches couple next to them kiss with a twinge of jealousy.

“Happy Birthday, Stan.” He turns around and Richie is sliding a Rubix cube across the table, the dried blood on his smile covered in chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream.

His parents are too busy that year to have a homemade cake, so Stan makes his wish right then, over his single strawberry scoop. He wishes for a true best friend.

Sometimes, when you’re making a wish, you don’t even know it’s come true already.

15 

“I hate this stupid job,” Stan mutters to himself, unlocking the front door to a dark home. He works everyday, even the Thursday of his birthday. Money doesn’t exactly flow easy in the Uris household anymore. He’d already resigned himself to a “celebration” of a movie at the Sunday matinee when he flicks on the lights.

“SURPRISE!” 6 excited voices yell, and Stan has whatever is the closest to a heart-attack without really having one. “Oh my God!” He realizes that this sounds angry, and repeats with a softer “Oh my God..” slowly smiling. They all have stupid party hats and of course Richie is the one to race over and snap a bright blue one on his head. Ben walks in from the kitchen, announcing his arrival with “Happy Birthday to you,” and the other losers quickly join in, Mike and Richie throwing in their own cha-cha-cha’s.

Bill’s hands on his shoulders gently guide him into the dining room chair and before Richie can start with the “how old are you now”, Beverly says “Make a wish!”

He doesn’t have much else he wants, but Bev asked him to, so he does. He asks for this, again, forever.

16 

It’s almost the same, but not really. Beverly was invited to Hannah’s party, like a real one, on the Friday his birthday fell on. She insisted it “extended to them all!”. Richie declared they should all do it “for Stan”.

He’s feeling awkward in the corner with his cup of water, getting strange looks from football players and their girlfriends as he tries to minimize interaction with anyone but his treasured 6.

This doesn’t work out so well when Beverly’s talking up a storm with her three best girlfriends, Mike and Bill are playing beer pong and Eddie has been in the bathroom washing his hands for nearly twenty minutes.

Just as he wonders where Richie went, of course he makes his grand entrance. By taking a running leap to jump across the ping pong table, not quite making it and falling by Stan’s feet.

The crowd cheered but Stan only rolled his eyes in responses to Richie’s hopeful look, tapping his foot until he scrambled to his feet. “Come on, Urine, I got ya something.” Richie said over the pound of the beat in his ears and yanking Stan’s other hand. He let himself be pulled through the crowds, nearly spilling his drink on a few.

“Better make it worth going to this party on my-” Stan stopped short when Richie stopped in front of him. “Ta-da!” Richie smiled, producing a lighter. In his other hand, he had a Bagel Bite with an unlit candle.

“Richie, where did you even get the candle, and the Bagel Bite? Did you go through her freezer?” Stan is smiling now, not even trying to hide it.

Richie’s not shouting anymore, his lips brushing Stan’s hair and ear. “Make a wish,” he whispered. Without a second thought, Stan made his wish and blew out the candle before the wax could have a change to drip.

Love.

17 

Richie’s band, Rum and Bloke, is playing at the Wave tonight. Stan’s stomach turns in anxiousness, and he searches for Bill in the sea of people. As he’s nearly a foot taller than most people here, it’s not difficult to find his shock of ginger hair bobbing near the front and 2 pale arms waving around drinks. He makes his way towards him, grabbing one of the beers out of his hand despite the black X on the back of Stan’s. “Hey, loser.”

“STAN!” Bill is slightly drunk and pulls him in for a hug.

“Oh thank God. I was worried Bill was gonna drink both within the next thirty minutes.” Stan can feel Eddie’s tension radiating from the sheer amount of people and nature of a club, they’re standing near a dried puddle and it makes his shoes stick to the floor. He wonders if anyone else can sense his own nerves. Why is he even nervous? It’s Richie, Bev and Ben that are performing for one of their first times publicly. And like, earning money for it. Even as an intro band. He sips from his cup and grimaces at the bitter taste.

“Hey, you made it!” Mike’s voice comes from his right, and he slings an arm around Eddie, whose irritation visibly eases. “When is the-”

The lights cut out and everyone starts shouting. Bev starts them off with a beat, and Richie and Ben join in on guitar and bass, respectively. Spotlights come on and Stan can’t help but stare. Richie looks ten feet tall, ditching his glasses for contacts and black hair contrasting his pale skin. They play songs Stan has heard a million and one times before in Ben’s basement in the past year, Richie singing Ben’s lyrics. Somehow, they’re fifty times better booming through the amps. His anxiety floats away with his drinks and dancing, singing along with all his best friends. Not a bad birthday, Stan thinks to himself. Not bad at all.

“And now,” Richie’s voice cuts in. “While you have all thoroughly enjoyed Benny Boy’s sweet, sweet lyricisms, I will be introducing you to a song I wrote.”

“With a little help.” Ben says. Even though Beverly doesn’t have a mic, they heard her infectious laugh. “And as this is our last song, I just want to say a very happy birthday to Stan my man.” He winks down at them, with Mike and Bill whooping.

“Alright, this is Simple Song.” Richie introduces with guitar, and Stan is just taken away.

“My life in an upturned boat, marooned on a cliff

You brought me a great big flood

And you gave me a lift

To care, what a gift

You tell me with your tongue

And your breath was in my lungs

And you float over the rift”

Blue lights dance around the club and he sways and sways to the music. Richie’s lyrics and voice, his words, make beer taste like birthday cake and he makes his wish.

Richie.

Later, when they’re kissing in the cold next to Richie’s Volvo, he thinks, wishes really do come true.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! so i'm not positive if i should make this like a long fic or just end it here. Huh idk. ill prolly just leave it.  
> Anyway pls let me know what u think!!! also i have like half finished chapters on all my other works cos im a piece of garbage.  
> anyway follow me at glowpatrol.tumblr.com


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